


Frosty deal

by Dragon Slayer Ornstein (Zerodas)



Category: Dark Souls II
Genre: A cold Night, Dominance, Explicit Sexual Content, Love & Hate, M/M, Submission, The Fire is not enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 19:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13394775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerodas/pseuds/Dragon%20Slayer%20Ornstein





	Frosty deal

The blade of the axe sparked as he pulled the embedded edge from the skull of the dead man now lying on the ground. It was in there deep. He had to press a foot to its back and pull the handle with both hands to free his axe from the fresh body. Grunting as it finally swung free, Creighton heaved great rugged breaths, feeling that rough tiredness he loved after a one-sided battle.  
Bending over, Creighton grabbed a tattered edge of the man’s garb and tore a piece off, which he used as a rag to wipe the blood from his blade. It was originally an axe made to slay dragons, having been imbued with lightning, but Creighton much more preferred it to slay men. The ground around him now glistened brilliantly in a mixture of white and red as the blood from the body pooled over the fresh snow. Pulling at some small leather straps hanging from his outfit, Creighton tied them to two ends of the axe’s handle, and adjusted the weapon behind him to sit securely on his back. On longer journeys, it was easier than carrying it and helped keep his hands free. Snuffling, his nose running a little bit, he knelt and pawed over the corpse he made. “C’mon, there’s gotta be something.” He mumbled to himself as he pillaged the body. But alas, hardly any loot of value. Just a few rusted gold coins and a ring or two he already knew to be fairly useless. “Damn.” He grumbled in frustration, having wasted his energy for naught. The man didn’t even have any decent clothes warm enough he could take to stave off the cold, and boy had it gotten bitter quickly. Little puffs of white vented through the holes in his mask as he continued trying to catch his breath. Wearing a metal mask on his face all the time, especially in the colder seasons, probably wasn’t the smartest thing.

The cold steel nipped at his cheekbones as the temperature continued to drop around him, and he hadn’t much in the way of weather protectant gear. Night was approaching quickly. Defeatedly gathering up the little trinkets and grabbing whatever dry branches he could scrounge from the nearby trees, Creighton decided it best to return to the bonfire he made earlier to rest for the evening- only hoping it hadn’t gone out in the time he had left.

  
It wasn’t much of a place to set up for the night. A small stone-brick building, crumbling from neglect with a few patchwork holes in the ceiling, but at least he was out of the elements. While much smaller than when he left it, there was still a tiny flame flickering a soft yellow glow, casting dancing shadows on the broken stones. “Ah, it’s you. I hope you don’t mind, I kept it burning with what I could. It would have gone out by now otherwise.” A familiar voice spoke softly from a shadowed corner of the room. Squinting his eyes to see through the darkness and dropping the twigs in his arms, ripping his axe free from its sling, he readied himself for the intruder. When his eyes adjusted however, he saw a familiar silhouette. Clad in light brown leather chest armor and boots, garnished with a few steel armor pieces such as knee guards, pauldrons, and a simple faceless helm, the man sat on a pile of rubble, sharpening the edges of his winged spear with a small whetstone. His eyes, which seemed to always be sunken, lowered- examining the spear tip, seeing where the whetstone needed to work.

  
“Pate? Is ‘at you? Bloody hell, I could’ve hacked your fuckin’ head off!” Creighton exclaimed, lowering his axe. Pate was certainly an odd one. They had only met once or twice before in passing on the roads they traveled. Normally Creighton would have killed him on the spot when they first met like any other man who dared spoke back to him, but he had warned Creighton of some traps before and was even willing to share a treasure or two. Though he always felt the man too sly in nature, feeling like he had something to hide. His ‘Mild-Mannered’ title merely a front. But for the time being he had proven himself useful, and in more ways than simply ‘advice’ – recalling their last encounter.

  
A chuckle, soft and low from Pate as he replied in the same disinterested tone with which he always spoke. “Nice to see you again, too, Creighton.” The axe wielder rolled his eyes in distain, and setting his blade down in the corner, Creighton fetched up the small branches he had dropped and tossed them onto the dwindling flame. “Fuck off, ya git.” He grumbled, perturbed he let Pate startle him so easily. Pate’s eyes, seemingly half closed in lack of interest as always, went to the pitiful little flame between them. “Those toothpicks you call kindling won’t do much, but it should suffice ‘til morning.” He droned, picking up an unburnt end of a stick and mixed the branches into the flame for a better burn, and tossed the stick back in. Feeling the glare as blue eyes suddenly pierced him, he clarified with another chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gone by morning. I’m not normally one to impose, but the weather simply won’t allow me to continue tonight. I have my own supplies, after all, so I only ask that you share the flame.” Creighton snorted his runny nose again, though seemingly more as a disgusting response of acceptance, and he sat himself on the floor as close to the fire as would allow.

  
A few hours passed- not a word spoken between the two. Even though he was so close to the bonfire to where he was practically touching it, Creighton had still been shivering enough where even his chainmail rattled at times from the vibrations. Pate-his armor being a little thicker- did not seem to even take notice of the cold that surrounded them. He sat with his leg crossed over his knee as a platform as he was eating some small pastry he pulled from his supply pouch. By the tiny crunches, it was most likely a tad stale, but it was better than nothing anyway. Still attempting to chew through his last bite, Pate tore off a piece of the crusty thing, offering it to Creighton. Not even bothering to look at it, he shook his head no. He was probably hungry, but the bitter cold held claim to his primary focus. Pate shrugged, shoving the offered piece into his own mouth and dusting himself of crumbs as he finished off the rest. “Anything else I can offer you then? A drink of estus or some mossfruit perhaps?” Pate asked as he daintily wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. Creighton gave him a brief annoyed look that read ‘no’ and turned his gaze back to the fire, as if staring hard enough would make it burn hotter.

  
“I’m fine I just… can’t get warm.” He grumbled somewhat to himself, pulling his legs in even closer as his body continued to shake. Pates darkened eyes sparked with sudden interest as the idea came to him. “Well, maybe I have a way you can get warm.” He enticed. “I just require you to do one thing.” Creighton’s head popped up, wary but intrigued at the offer of warmth. “Hmm, and what’s ‘at then?” He said snuffling again. “Take off your mask. I’ve heard all the stories in my travels of the masked wanderer who kills for sport, and thought it nice to put a face to the name.”

  
Creighton scoffed, astounded and irritated. Even when he was by himself, Creighton was never without his mask, only taking it off when it was required such as for eating or washing his face. The mask made him everything. It branded him for who he was. What was originally supposed to shame and mark him, he claimed for his own- turning it into something to be feared. Who was he without the mask? At times he would even forget himself. Something in that moment, though,– the fact that Pate had just asked so offhanded- made him want to remember, to see for himself. He pulled his helmet and chainmail cowl off over his face and tossed them aside near where he lay his axe. He hesitated as his hand came to the mask, fingers pressed on the steel cheeks. His resolve pushed through however, as he pulled away the object that was his face for so long, and laid it gently beside himself. Chin-length silvery white hair, parted in the center, had fallen gently to frame the face. Brilliantly bright blue eyes sat above sharp angular features, and just the slightest amount of stubble speckled the square yet slender jawline. The murderer he was appeared as well, as various cuts and scars from battle were clear on his face. A small one across the bridge of the nose, a slightly bigger one just at the corner of his lips, but the largest being one on his right cheek, looking about two inches in length. Pate could venture a guess that the rest of Creighton’s body would bear similar scars.

  
“Hmm, a tad homely, but didn’t expect a killer could be handsome as well.” He teased the obviously insecure man. “Those scars are pretty nice as well. I’d love to hear the story behind that one sometime.” He said, noting the one on his cheek. Pate’s gaze ate hungrily from the visage presented to him. Creighton, finding it somewhat mocking, grimaced and turned his head, attempting to hide the scar behind his hanging locks. That was his first scar… the one that earned him the mask in the first place. It wasn’t a story he liked to recall, and he certainly wasn’t going to tonight. “I took off my f-f-fuckin’ mask. So you’d better ‘ave something to warm this place up like ye said. ‘S colder than the abyss right now.” Creighton warned through chattering teeth.  
One corner of Pate’s mouth upturned into a small, sly expression. “Of course, of course. Heh, I’m surprised that steel mask hasn’t given you frostbite. You must be chilled to the bone.” He jested. Then, casually standing up and facing Creighton, he pulled the drawstrings loose of his pants and pulled himself out above the brim. The member, while only partially erect, bounced as it was freed from its confines. “You should really put something warm in that pretty face of yours.” He spoke in the same mono-tone, as if he hadn’t just exposed himself- holding the base with a single hand.

  
Creighton cringed away from him in shock. He can’t be serious! Did he expect Creighton to ..? His face contorted with anger as he looked from the half-limp dick up to Pate and then back down at it. The tip was already a rosy pink, so it certainly had to be warm. Creighton could have even sworn he saw a little steam coming from it as it hit the frozen air. “Don’t make me freeze now too. Well, go on. If I’m giving something away, you’d better well take it.” Creighton sputtered an unintelligible noise that showed his distain for the idea. But why was he moving closer then? From his position on the ground, Creighton shakily turned himself onto his knees and crawled closer to Pate and his crotch. He could already feel himself going numb from continuously lowering temperature. Hairs stood straight in a needle-like fashion over his body. At this point, Creighton didn’t even care if he had to suck the dick. All he cared about was getting warm- too easily convincing himself it was merely for survival. Creighton’s eyes almost seemed to glaze over as the instinct to get warm took control of him. He hesitated for but a moment, then with half-lidded eyes, leaned his face in and softly closed his lips around the head presented to him.

  
“A-ah! Oo!” Pate exclaimed in shallow tones as the colder man’s mouth touched him. Creighton held himself still for a moment as the sudden introduction of the much hotter object seared his lips which must have been a pale blue by then. But when they finally adjusted to each other, Creighton began to bob at an excruciatingly slow pace. Not moving too far down on it, Creighton was more interested in absorbing the heat from Pate’s loins. He could hardly even focus, he wasn’t even controlling his own actions. As if on auto-pilot, Creighton’s mouth slid up and down, up and down, up and down- only taking brief moments to come up for air. Whenever he did, he still made sure to keep a part of himself leeching the heat from Pate’s dick – lips and tongue kissing the side lengths of the shaft before guiding it back into his mouth. Pate’s eyes closed, his head tilting back slightly as he sighed in seductive approval of his technique. He still needed more though- Creighton moving too slow to cause any type of arousal. He reached a gloved hand down, caressing the side of Creighton’s cheek, and slid his fingers through his hair. Grabbing a loose fistful at the back of his head, Pate forced Creighton to take it deeper into his mouth. A spluttering noise of surprise escaped Creighton, but he managed to just barely keep his gag reflex in check, and greedily slopped up more of the cock’s heat. Creighton could feel it beginning to get harder, warmer in his mouth. His tongue maneuvered like a sentient tentacle as it traced every new vein that began to press up. The deep throating becoming a bit overwhelming with a newfound pace, Creighton pulled up for minute to better catch his breath. A small strand of saliva still connected the tip to the gaping mouth of the panting man. Pate refused to let him rest for long, having finally started to chub, and his hand pulled the hair tighter as he forced Creighton’s mouth back onto his dick. Pate’s hips had begun to instinctively gyrate as his pulse quickened- his actions of thrust and force now causing Creighton to swallow the full length of his cock in every motion. He no longer allowed Creighton respites, and continued to make him inhale it to the base. Creighton felt it begin to cramp in his jaw, but he was getting more of the toasty dick in his mouth and that was all that mattered. He had thoroughly coated it with a thick layer of saliva already, and it splashed and squirted as it caused him to make slurping noises. It was such a heavy coating of spit, that when Pate began to pre, signaling he was close, it went unnoticed by Creighton as the two fluids mixed. Pate was ready. On Creighton’s last bob down, Pate held his head there and with a grunt and a shudder let loose, filling Creighton’s mouth entirely with cum.

  
Creighton’s eyes bugged, and he pushed himself off Pate, overpowering the hand that held him. His cheeks bulged out like a chipmunk as he held the copious amount of semen. Angry and bewildered, he couldn’t believe what was going on. Pate, looking down at the puffed-cheek man, then ordered through his panting. “Now, swallow it.” Creighton tried to pull his head to the side to spit it out- he certainly wasn’t going to do that. Pulling Creighton’s head back to look him in the eyes, Pate pulled a small knife out hidden in his back waste band and pressed the blade menacingly to Creighton’s jugular- not enough pressure to break the skin, but enough to prove he was serious. “Swallow.” He ordered with a deeper stern tone. No, he wouldn’t! How dare he! He… *gulp*. Creighton winced as he swallowed down hard. It was like a rich, hot, creamy soup as he felt it slide down his throat- though a soup someone with a salt shaker poured into with no restraint. When he finally managed to get the most of it down, Creighton’s tongue rolled out as he panted like a dog. Bits of the salty cum still clung to his tongue and the inside of his mouth. He was disgusted with himself, but it felt like heaven as he felt it begin to warm him from the inside. With a half-sided smirk, Pate let go of Creighton’s hair with his other hand and patted him on the side of his face. “Hmm, good boy.” He cooed sarcastically as he slid the dagger back into its sheath on his waste. Then, using the hand still caressing Creighton’s face, Pate gripped his fingers around the corners of his mouth, forcing it to remain open as Pate bent over and forced himself into the defeated man. Pressing lips hard on him, Pate’s tongue found its way to all parts of Creighton’s mouth and licking up the remaining cum. His tongue worked Creighton’s over especially rough- writhing and intertwining as he squeegeed every remaining drop into his own mouth. When Creighton’s mouth had been thoroughly cleaned with his own, Pate swallowed and pulled away from the man. Standing back up straight and wiping a small dribble of jizz from the corner of his own mouth with a single finger, Pate chuckled as he looked down at the obviously confused Creighton. “Hmhm. Just wanted a taste.” He teased, biting down on his lower lip in brief satisfaction as he thought about having tasted himself from another man.

  
After such a skillful blowjob, Pate’s dick throbbed fully erect. The tip beat against his own pelvis with each pulse like the pedal to a kick drum. It flushed with brighter, deeper pinks and maroons with clear arousal. He had already quickly regained his stamina, and he was not going to let it be left like that. He felt such a sadistic pleasure now, and he was going to take advantage of it. With a laugh of a single breath, he grinned, showing a small glint of teeth, as he pointed a finger down at the ground. Creighton was no longer sure if the instinct he felt was that still of survival or now of sexual lust. Regardless, his body was acting on its own now, willing to do whatever Pate asked. He bent himself down so his torso pressed against the floor- an arm curved under to cradle his own head with the other just to the side to grip the floor in a bracing position- his ass presented up in the air. Pate tittered as he examined the man so devoid of dignity. He traced his fingers up the small of Creighton’s back as he walked around his side and stepped behind him. Dropping to his knees to get himself on equal level with Creighton, Pate grabbed his own dick, and with quick alignment and lowering of Creighton’s chainmail and trousers, shoved himself deep into Creighton’s ass. Creighton groaned and his fingers curled as the dick was pressed into his tight hole. Pate grunted as well, struggling a little to push it all the way in with how tight it was, but the previous suck provided him enough lubrication to get the job done. Then, before Pate could even begin, Creighton began to push back, rearing and twerking in small motions as he attempted in a new way to milk the hot cum from Pate again. Surprised yet smug that Creighton had already given up to him so quickly, Pate obliged and began to thrust hard at a steady pace. He could tell Creighton was still cold, and what better way to heat him up than with a little friction?

  
Creighton’s chainmail jingled with thrust after thrust, his body jerking forward with each one. He didn’t care. He couldn’t think- couldn’t speak. His ass was so warm now. He relished in the pleasure, not thinking it could get any better. Then, while still plunging his hips at the same pace, Pate raised up and one by one bit the fingers of his gloves and pulled them up so he could rip the gloves off with his teeth. He tossed them aside and brought his bare hands up to his face. Cupping them over his mouth, he breathed long and heavy into them two or three times, and finishing up by vigorously rubbing them together, he gripped one warmed hand around Creighton’s dick and began jacking him in quick strokes, while the other hand slid up under his tunic and let a thumb and index finger twist and play with one of Creighton’s hardened nipples. An onslaught of sensations- Creighton’s eyes rolled back as his mouth lolled open, drooling a little bit. He wasn’t even trying to hold back as he moaned and made all sorts of orgasmic noises that rang pretty in Pate’s ears. The finger continued to circle around his teet, making sure it remained perk as he flicked and rubbed it. The hand on his cock showed experience as fingers moved and pressed in ways and places he didn’t even know could be so sensitive. Making him pre this early was the easiest thing to do. The cock in his ass pushed faster, harder, deeper- spelunking the forbidden cave in search of that one spot. “A-AH!” a piercing cry of ecstasy and a tremor felt through Creighton’s body ensured that the spot had indeed been located. Pate pulled back far in preparation, and he slammed with all the force he could into the spot repeatedly. Creighton cried out pleasuring screams- bucking and jerking violently as Pate continued to hit his spot with pin-point accuracy. It wasn’t long until every muscle in Creighton’s body abruptly contracted as his back curved in an intense orgasm- his own seed spilling over Pate’s fingers and into a puddle on the floor in a striking volume. Pate hummed small laughs to himself, twistedly loving having dominated the brazen warrior with such little effort. Even while Creighton had already been overwhelmed past the brink with pleasure, Pate continued to prod him with his hands and cock – partially to see Creighton squirm from overstimulation and see how much more he could milk from him, but Pate also wasn’t going to pull out until he got there himself. Whenever Pate felt Creighton’s spasms start to fade, he slammed back into the spot again, causing new waves of muscle contractions to shoot through Creighton – which felt especially wonderful as his anus pulsed and clenched tightly around Pate. Every new orgasm sent another secretion of white liquid onto the floor. Pate was surprised Creighton was holding that much in. Soon enough, Pate was sure he had tapped the man dry as every new body arc caused little more than a dribble from the tip. Now convinced, Pate shoved deep into Creighton’s spot one last time and let forth his blast of piping hot seed. Surprising himself that he himself was still holding that much back, the cum instantaneously filled the hole and jetted excess fluid in spurts out of the seams.

  
Pate, releasing his hands from the front, pushed off of Creighton as he pulled out and fell backwards into a seated position. His hands behind him holding him up, his legs spread flat, and he panted and wheezed great white clouds of air as he looked at his own cum covered dick sticking straight up into the air. Creighton rest there a moment, bare ass still raised high, as he felt Pate’s seed coat the walls of his insides. With struggling breaths, he angled his head back to look at the man he just let fill every orifice of his. He would regain his breath eventually, but there was no regaining his dignity. Looking up from his soaking wet cock, Pate looked to Creighton and raised a single eyebrow. He didn’t even need to be ordered this time, as Creighton pushed back up onto hands and knees and crawled over to clean up Creighton in one quick slurp. Pate raised the hand that Creighton had came on, and he immediately grabbed it was well, licking in between the fingers and sucking on them like one would after eating some juicy barbeque ribs. Finding nothing left he could clean up, Creighton sat back on his knees as he stared with dead eyes and empty mind at the floor.

  
He was quite like a beaten dog with his tail between his legs, Pate had noted to himself as he looked at Creighton like a thing easily conquered. Both of them had begun to sweat by now, the cold becoming an unnoticed issue at this point. The air was pungent with the smell of manly musk, sexual fluids, and bitter shame. There was no point to it anymore, and he considered not even doing it, but he figured Creighton deserved a treat for his extensive work. Reaching over to his supply pouch, he rummaged around inside until he pulled out a small parcel of thick paper wrapped with twine. He tugged at the strings and unfolded the corners of the paper to reveal a small pile of rough, round objects that were pitch black in color. “Well, as promised.” He said, returning to his disinterested self, and he limply tossed the package and its contents onto the miniscule flame of the bonfire. With a sudden pop and a flash, the flame exploded to life, roaring as it rose up the simultaneous moment the package hit. The bonfire stood grand now – giant flames swayed as it crackled and sizzled, a huge plume of smoke billowing from the top. Creighton had to shield his eyes from the sudden bright spectacle, but when he finally took it in, his face twitched and his brow furrowed as his eyes lit back to life as well with equal burning hot rage. “You… You fucking bastard! You ‘ad a charcoal pine bundle this whole time?!” He growled as directed his seething anger at Pate. Pate only shrugged, acting as if it was something that had slipped his mind which it was clear it wasn’t. “Oh hogwash, what does it matter anyway? You certainly enjoyed yourself, hmm, my little baiser garçon?“ A devilish Pate jested. He had already robbed the man of his pride in every way, and he sat smug enjoying the image of his human sex toy, for that’s all he was- something he could toy with and something to fuck.

  
Creighton bellowed a mighty roar as he lunged at Pate, throwing a fist square at Pate’s mouth. His head whipped back at impact, the corner of his body lip becoming red and puffy as a blood began to trickle out. Then with both hands, Creighton shoved Pate’s shoulders down, slamming him onto the floor with enough force to cause Pate to cough and sputter with the wind knocked out of him. Creighton wanted nothing more than to bash the fucker’s face in with his bare fists, but that wouldn’t solve anything. He needed to humiliate him- prove that he was the one to give orders here- put Pate back in his place. So he was holding back the heat was he? Well Creighton would just have to fuck him into submission until he gave up anything else he was holding back. With ferocity, he ripped off Pate’s pants straight off, and after pulling off his own chainmail and tunic, shoved himself into his exposed ass with a hearty thrust -rhythmically drilling him with tremendous speed and power. “C-Creighton. You..” Pate tried to form some sort of insult as he winced at the sudden introduction. “Heh heh, what? Ye can dish it out but can’t take it, can ya?” Creighton snarled with a grin as he plunged hard and rough. Pate was abnormally tight. Creighton guessed it must be true then that Pate had always been one to dominate the other and had never truly been fucked himself. But Creighton was sure to make that change. He pushed one of Pate’s thighs wider, and lifted his other leg onto his shoulder- spreading his hips as wide as possible as he took Pate sideways. The foot over his shoulder bounced freely as Creighton kept rhythm, heel kicking into his shoulder blade like horse spurs. Creighton’s muscles flexed as Pate’s hands groped desperately at his biceps, looking for something to hold onto. Pate was right in that Creighton had more scars hidden underneath as he looked over the well-toned warrior. His fingers traced over a few pronounced scars on the arms he held as his body rocked back and forth. Prominent slapping noises rang through the room as Creighton’s wet sack smacked Pate’s backside- Creighton’s cum filled hole still dripping with his forward motion. They both were fucked red and raw almost to the point of chafing, but Creighton refused to let up. He was going to keep going until Pate was utterly dominated- subservient like he had just been. Yet Pate was proving a tough opponent, still showing he felt pretty full of himself and not full of with Creighton’s thick throbbing cock. He loathed the conceited expression of triumph that Pate wasn’t giving up. He absolutely wanted to kill the man with every fiber of his being...and maybe he would. His hands that held Pate pinned to the ground slid from chest, up past the clavicle, and found their way to Pate’s neck.

He felt Pate’s pounding pulse through his fingers, beating enthusiastically with their carnal activity. Slowly, deftly- Creighton’s fingers began to close tighter around Pate’s throat. Noticing his breaths were struggling and he had begun to wheeze, Pate snapped back to reality as he realized what was going on. Sputtering, Pate’s hands grabbed Creighton’s wrists immediately in a vice-grip, fingernails digging in and drawing blood as his face began to change color. There was the fear Creighton was looking for. He cackled with low husky laughs as he felt the life start to drain from Pate. But Creighton was suddenly bewildered. As Pate held the trying gaze, he released one hands grasp from Creighton and steadily moved it down to his own dick, masturbating with robust vigor. The hand still holding Creighton clawed tighter, as if daring him-testing him to push further as he grinned breathlessly. “An asphyxiation fetish, huh? Kinky. I can definitely work with that.” Creighton thought, and he obliged Pate, pressing harder onto his throat. Pate’s face was a deep blush now- his airway now completely closed off. Eyes starting to roll, he finally gave in and tapped his grazing hand on Creighton’s wrist to signal he’d had enough. No- Creighton wouldn’t. He’d finally broken the stubborn man, and he was going to enjoy it. Pate was going to withhold warmth? Well maybe he’d withhold air. He felt the heat build up in Pate’s neck as he began to struggle. So warm.. so wonderfully warm.. so .. warm.. warm…..flame… dear flame... He felt Pate’s flame flickering, dying in his hands. It aroused him in new ways that even the ass-pounding he took before paled by comparison. ‘C-Creigh-ton!’ Pate rasped with the little air that was left. Creighton ignored his plea. Not yet. Pates lip turned from maroon, to purple, and eventually deep blue. Not yet. A final breathless gasp as the clinging grip on his wrists gradually weakened and loosened- bloodshot eyes rolled back, and suddenly a blast of cum rocketed forth, spraying over Creighton’s arms and even shooting up far enough to hit Pate’s cheek. Ok, now.

  
Creighton abruptly released Pate’s throat, and watched as the life suddenly flooded back into him with a big wheezing breath- coughing and gagging with rough sounding noises as he tried to refill his lungs. Creighton simply knelt there with his dick in Pate’s ass as his shoulder’s heaved as he tried to catch his own breath from the excitement. With a final act of defiance to further conquest over Pate, he pulled his out and laid it on top of Pate’s cock, he lazily let a small flow of cum ooze out over his shirt. Then aiming his dick up and giving it a quick jerk, shot the what little remained at Pate’s face- every last drop of cum finally spent. Pate shut an eye as it shot up to his cheek and brow. Little bits landed on his bruised lip and in his mouth as he still wheezed desperately. Both men physically spent, Pate lay still as he savored the air again, and Creighton crawled forward with weak knees and collapsed onto his stomach beside Pate with an arm lain across Pate’s chest as he watched Pate finally begin to calm his breathing. Laying there in Creighton’s exhausted embrace, Pate spoke with a now low, coarse sounding voice. “For a second there, I thought you really weren’t going to let up.” He said, trying not to strain himself. “ Tired eyes closing, Creighton laughed. “Well maybe I wasn’t. Your cum shot made my hands slip.” Creighton felt him chuckle inaudibly through the arm wrapped over him. “But choking gets you off, eh? I’ll ‘ave to remember that next time so I can use my belt and finish the job off” He joked, though more liking the idea of killing him than the belt. “Aah, so there’s a next time then?” Pate teased back, bringing an arm under Creighton’s head and around his shoulder as he returned the weary embrace, both of them just wishing to rest. “…Just shut yer gob ye lug-headed milksop.” He mumbled, burying his face into the side of Pate’s pec- too tired to bother with attempt a retort. It wasn’t a much more than a minute later that the two men- one still with no shirt and one still with no pants- fell asleep in their loose spooning position. The newly ignited bonfire provided enough heat to allow it anyhow.

  
Sunlight filtering through the cracks and holes in the roof finally met Creighton’s eyes, forcing him awake. Groaning and stiff, he sat himself up – rubbing his eyes as he adjusted to the new light source. The bonfire still burned strongly, and kept the room pretty well heated. Upon glancing around though, he noticed the obvious absence of the so-called treasure hunter. A small rolled up parchment lay neatly on the stone floor where Pate rested that night. Picking it up and unfurling it, Creighton struggled over the words as he attempted to read it. Yes, he could read, but he wasn’t the strongest of readers- literary knowledge far from something he deemed necessary in these times.

  
“ Hate to run out so soon, but I have a schedule to keep. There’s a few more materials further ahead I wanted to scrounge for. But there’s a location no more than a day or two’s walk from here that I’ve marked below for you. I’ve heard there’s an amazing treasure hidden somewhere inside. I figured you could meet me there and we could split it once I’ve found it. I haven’t the guts to go for this one myself, and figured a brusk fellow such as you would love a little adventure. You’ve certainly turned out to be more rugged than I thought. Be careful out there. Hopefully we’ll meet again in the next few days and we can have a little more ‘fun’ to celebrate the find. Oh, and be careful not to slip on your way out. You left quite a mess on the floor.”

  
Memorizing the location, Creighton crumpled the parchment and tossed it into the flame, which it ate in a matter of seconds. Even after all that, the letter still showed Pate’s arrogance at their fornication. Finally standing back up, Creighton grabbed his clothes and his weapon and put himself back together- securely fastening his mask back around his face and feeling more like himself again. “Or maybe I’ll just beat you there and take the treasure for myself, you pompous shit-head.” Creighton thought to himself, feeling the thrill of the hunt begin. “I’ll find a common footpad, and put an end to his roguery.”  


 


End file.
